


Dissolver of Sugar

by Apricot (Paradisi)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ben Solo Lives, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Coda, Dreams and Nightmares, Earn Your Happy Ending, F/M, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, Moral Ambiguity, POV Rey (Star Wars), Pining, Rey Ambiguous, Rey Needs A Hug, Rey Nobody, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker Fix-It, The Dark Side of the Force, saving what you love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:00:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22569016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paradisi/pseuds/Apricot
Summary: “Rey...what could anyone do, to make up for what Kylo Ren did?”Or: Redemption isn't supposed to be easy. A TROS fix-it fic, of sorts.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 23
Kudos: 143
Collections: For one is both and both are one in love: The Reylo Fanfiction Anthology's Valentine's Day Exchange





	Dissolver of Sugar

**Author's Note:**

  * For [optimus_pam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/optimus_pam/gifts).



> Thank you for your prompts! I hope you enjoy.

_Rey dreams. Sometimes she dreams of fire, and screaming, and the hot bite of lightning on her skin. Sometimes she dreams of an empty pit of darkness, swallowing her up and hollowing her out. Sometimes, she dreams, and she can feel how utterly alone she is— how she’s been left with nothing but dust and scraps of empty fabric, a lifeless husk of a planet and nothing inside her head but her own thoughts. That might be the worst version of her nightmare._

* * *

“I’ll tell them.”

“Rey...”

“I’ll tell them,” she promised. “I’ll tell them how you helped me defeat Palpatine. How we saved everything. _Together_.”

Silence.

“I’ll tell them. I’ll make them understand.”

Ben’s skin was still drained of color, and he looked worse for wear—just as bad as she currently felt. She was pressed against his side, helping bear some of his weight as they staggered out together, one foot in front of the other. Rey wished that she wasn’t so attuned to how his body pressed against hers— how much weight he rested on her, despite his initial protests. How, despite how he pressed on, it was taking them far too much time to make it back to the ships. 

* * *

He seemed preternaturally calm when they landed on Ajan Kloss. His emotions in the Force were tamped down by the exhaustion that she knew he felt, and that she felt herself, but it was nothing compared to the exhilaration, the happiness she felt that they were there together, that they would _be_ together. He was coming with her. They wouldn’t ever have to be apart again.

People noted him, the moment he’d stepped off his ship and come beside her. The moment was so caught up in celebration that it slowed their reactions, but no one failed to notice the stranger coming off the ship, how tall he looked beside Rey, the marks of battle on his face and even though his hands were empty how _dangerous_ he still looked. 

It was Finn— _Finn, safe, alive, her friends were alive—_ who stiffened first, his gaze shooting back to Rey’s face and then to Ben as he stepped off the stolen ship, coming into view. 

“Rey—” he said, his hand flying to his blaster...but Rey’s hand was already there, stilling his wrist, her eyes burning.

“Finn, let me explain,” she said, her voice a low undertone. “He’s here because he helped us—”

The crowd parted, and through the Force, Rey felt Ben flinch. General Calrission was standing there, a mixture of grief and relief on his face, and— Chewie. The Wookie stood beside him, for a second just staring at Ben.

“Oh, _Kriff,”_ The general said.

Chewie snarled, jerking his bowcaster up.

“No!” Rey started, going for Chewie, but suddenly more people were drawing weapons, shouting, realizing who was among them, an armed barrier. Ben didn’t even have his lightsaber, he’d returned it to her, if someone let off a shot he had no way to protect himself...

Ben’s gaze dropped, his hands already up. His face was still calm, like he’d been anticipating this, and even as the crowd advanced he dropped to his knees.

“ _Ben—”_ Rey darted forward, but someone caught her arm. Poe stood there, his face furious.

“No, Rey.”

She shook his hand free, gritting her teeth at him. “He’s here to _help_ us.”

“That’s _Kylo Ren_ —” Poe said, punctuating every syllable with a hiss. “As in the _Supreme Leader._ ”

Her saber was right at her hip. If she was able to get between the crowd and Ben—

_Let them, Rey._

Her breath caught up short. Ben was still staring at the ground, even as the crowd advanced— a swell of shouting, nervous chatter, and naked fear that was only kept at bay by how he barely moved a muscle. His mind, though— she knew that in his mind, all he could see was the faces of Lando Calrission and Chewbacca.

_This has to happen, Rey. Let them take me._

She’d known that something like this could happen. But seeing it now— seeing it now, it _rankled._

A Resistance soldier— she didn’t know their name— approached cautiously from behind, binders in their hands. She watched them collect Ben’s wrists, clamping down tightly. Ben let them pull him up to standing again, eyes still at his feet as more soldiers flanked him, marching him out of the crowd.

Ben didn’t look at her, even as he passed by.

She turned to Poe. “He saved my life, Poe. Palpatine’s gone because he helped us.”

For the first time, she could see how very tired Poe looked. How weary his eyes were. 

“I think there’s still a lot to talk about,” he said. “And a lot he’s still going to have to answer for, Rey.”

She knew that. She _knew that._

“Where are they going to take him?”

That was the wrong question. She could suddenly sense that Poe didn’t like that she had asked it, no matter how innocuous it had felt on her tongue, and so his answer wasn’t very surprising— just maddening.

“Somewhere safe.”

She scoffed, brushing past him. Finn caught her by the hand before she could round the Falcon, his eyes still flicking over her as if to catalogue any hidden wounds.

“Rey, what happened?” 

She bristled. “It’s fine. We’re _both_ fine.”

The emphasis was still directed at her anger at Poe, but Finn dropped her hand, looking slightly stung. “Rey, that’s- that’s Kylo Ren.”

“I think I know who that is,” she snapped, and then instantly felt sorry. She inhaled, before meeting Finn’s eyes. “Finn, I know. And I know the Resistance has questions. He knows he has to...atone, for what he did.”

She felt that. Deep through the bond, she’d felt the lurch inside of Ben, of his guilt, of his resignation, his burning sickness at seeing his uncles’ faces again.

Even with that echoing in her head, Finn’s words still sent a chill down her spine.

“Rey...what could anyone do, to make up for what Kylo Ren did?”

* * *

_Rey Palpatine._

_In her dreaming mind, she hears the words again, a haunting echo she won’t ever be able to scrub away. She can feel him in her veins like poison. His hate permeates her entire being, and she can taste the fear in her tongue. She doesn’t resist it. She rides it, clinging to the power that is as unsteady and volatile as a bolt of lightning. And in the heart of his words she hears...the lie of them._

_This is mine,_ she thinks, _someone_ speaks into her head. _My darkness. Never the Emperor’s._

* * *

The Resistance was running again. It was a safety precaution, but there was still that niggling feeling in the back of Rey’s mind that perhaps they’d all gotten too used to it: how to fall back and fight another day. Maybe they’d all learned caution too well.

But it was practical, and it was orders, and Rose and Finn seem content with it, so Rey went along without complaint.

The Resistance— or the Republic, or whatever they are supposed to call themselves now— had several Star Destroyers now to help bolster their ranks. The First Order was broken, and several officers have turned their ships over to the Resistance in hopes of achieving a measure of clemency. 

They had allies now, real allies who had promises of aid and ideas on how to rebuild. Her friends were swept up in it— Finn and Jannah, working together to talk with former Stormtroopers and help them build up the Resistance’s ranks. Rose was working more closely with Poe, who seemed to rely on her more and more. Rey was….

Rey was training. And fixing the Falcon. And waiting. Waiting, again.

The only thing that made that bearable was the fact that she could feel Ben. She could feel his end of the bond, although for some reason she couldn’t ever summon him to her, like they’d done before. But she only had to think of him, and she could feel the welcome brush of his mind. 

_I’m all right._

It was enough, for a few weeks. Sometimes she tried to talk to him more, open the bond wider so she could send a sentence to him.

_We should be able to figure something out soon._

_We’ll find a new base, and then I’ll talk to the council._

_How are you?_

His answer was always the same. A gentle prickle of his consciousness, warm against her skin. _I’m all right._ _Don’t worry._

She could sense that he was unhurt, at least physically. His injuries from Exegol were healing, either sped along with the Force or with Resistance medicines— she suspected the former to be more likely— it didn’t matter. 

There were other questions she asked him, ones she was never quite sure went through because she wasn’t sure if she wanted them to.

_Do you still dream about Exegol?_

_What do you remember?_

_Why can’t I see you anymore?_

The bond was still open. But he didn’t answer those with words, if he heard them at all. So she bit them back. She trained until her muscles ached and she slept so hard she couldn’t dream, installed a new rotating core in the topside gun well of the Falcon, and waited.

* * *

_Rey._

_Luke is speaking to her now, so far away she can barely hear him. But his words echo through her._

_Don’t make the same mistakes we made, Rey._

* * *

The first time the council came to her for her opinion— on a matter between two of their new allies, something that she gathered had less to do with trade routes or trade access or trade _treaties_ and more about the long, bitter history she read in their words and heads when they spoke on the council floor— Rey was surprised.

It wasn’t as if they wanted her to be a council leader, or she’d abstained from taking on a role in the Republic Forces. But there was a deadlock in the voting, and the council talked themselves into circles before they came to her. _For counsel,_ the councilman— a twinkly-eyed Mon Calamari— had intoned. _The Jedi had a history of weighing in, from time to time._ _Their guidance helped cut through some of the unnecessary bureaucracy._

The words were kind, and she could not feel any ill-intent. Still, something in her sensed a trap.

“When will the council discuss the matter of Ben Solo?” she said instead. “It’s been three months.”

The councilmember— _Oki?_ — blanched as much as his features would allow.

“The question of the war criminal known as Kylo Ren—” he said, and then trailed off as he took in Rey’s expression. 

“You can’t just keep him locked away,” she said hotly.

“No, and that is not our intent,” Councilmember Oki said. “But the matter must be weighed heavily, before we decide his fate—”

“You don’t think he even deserves a trial?” 

The councilmember eyed her, looking displeased for the first time. “Madame Jedi, are you telling me that you think he’s not guilty of any charge we could levy against him?”

* * *

_Chewie was on that ship._

_She can feel the hot, stinging wind of the sands drying her tears before they even breech her eyelids. The air still crackles with ozone, and the echoes of her shout are drowned out by the sound of the blood roaring through her ears._

_Chewie is on that ship—_

_Time unspools, winds back. She feels herself reaching for it, digging her fingernails into the side like claws. She won’t allow him to be taken. She won’t allow Kylo Ren to win. She won’t allow herself to be_ left _—_

_And then suddenly, it’s not the First Order ship. It’s the ship that was carrying her parents, the one that she had seen in her dreams over and over again—_

_And like Chewie’s ship, she feels the explosion from the heart of it. Feels it shatter underneath the crackling Force lightning. Sees and hears and tastes the fear of the passengers as it crashes into the sand dunes…._

* * *

She woke in a cold sweat.

_Rey._

_Ben._

For the first time in a long time, his voice was in her head without her having to reach for him. She could feel his alarm, the pulse of fear in his words that reminded her of her dream—

Her dream. 

It was midday, or at least what the ship’s clock said was midday. They were moving again, keeping mobile as they rallied the rest of the galaxy to their cause. Protocol was to set the clock to wherever they would next make planetfall, and Rey still hadn’t gotten used to it. She barely had time to note the clock again before her stomach heaved.

She could barely make it over the side of the bed before she was sick. She hadn’t stopped thinking about what she had done to Chewie— no, what she could’ve done to Chewie. What she _had_ done to that ship, and the people onboard. It didn’t matter that they were First Order. Just remembering the look on the faces of her friends when they’d seen what she’d done had proved that.

_Rey._

This time, it was so real that she nearly turned her head, praying he’d be sitting there beside her. Instead, she felt the steady pressure of— of a hand, much larger than her own, pressed between her shoulder blades.

It made her want to cry. 

_“Is that what happened?”_ Her words felt crammed down into her throat, and she had to work to get them out. “ _To my parents? Is that what really happened to them?”_

She’d thought that Palpatine’s claim could be the worst explanation, but this...she wasn’t sure if she could bear it. 

_Who am I supposed to be now?_

She wasn’t sure she had said that aloud, or just thought it. 

Something brushed her temple, and then his arms were around her. Her fingers reached out blindly, digging into fabric, drawing him closer. Something about him felt...off, not quite substantial, but it felt too good to investigate. 

Part of her wanted to lean back and look at him for the first time in _months,_ but she also couldn’t make herself draw away. She twisted, angling her cheek so it fit against the hollow of his throat and felt the muscles convulse as he swallowed. The rhythm of his breathing was familiar. It matched hers.

_Where are you?_

_I’m all right._

She exhaled sharply, her fingernails pricking against his back as she clutched tighter. 

His hands slid along her back, soft and slow. It was only because she was pressed so close that she noticed how he shifted slightly every few seconds. Every movement fit her a little better against him, as if they were melding into each other. She didn’t resist it. She let herself melt into him, every breath unknotting something in her chest. She breathed Ben Solo in and let the Force thrum around them.

His voice was low in her ear, even though she knew he wasn’t speaking aloud. _Where are your friends?_ _Why are you alone?_

 _I’m not alone,_ Rey thought back, almost instinctively. She angled her chin just a little more, so the apple of her cheek nestled against the hollow of his throat.

His breath caught as soon as the thought left her mind. She felt his throat work against her cheek, felt an ache of _feeling_ in the Force, and just as quickly she felt Ben..draw back, shield it from her.

_Find them, Rey._

The order made her frown, and that gave her the strength to lean back, to try and meet his gaze. _Ben—_ But the moment she sat up, his arms slipped away, and she jolted with the loss of it. He was gone.

* * *

_Dying hurts more than she imagines it could. The Emperor’s laughter rings in her ears and at some point….it turns to screams. But Rey’s falling away, drawing away from the pain and into something bigger, calmer, where she can’t feel or see or hear anymore. She feels her essence spreading out, like an echo reverberating softer with every heartbeat, and she welcomes it. Everything draws still._

_Balance._

_And then everything is quiet._

_Still, and quiet._

_And then she feels it. Life, pouring into her, flowing in waves. His soul— their soul— curling inside her again._

* * *

They made base just outside the Inner Rim. The wilderness was more spaced out between cities here, harder to get to even though they chose a base camp on the edge of one of the smaller cities. It was a port city, tall buildings half jutted over the open sea on high stilts. 

It was a junker’s dream. She found herself sifting through scrap yards and stockyards absently, like she was back on Jakku. 

She found half a dozen parts to stash in the Falcon for eventual backup. That was what this afternoon was devoted to— reorganizing the storage compartments under the floor so she could fit half of a sensor array in among the rest of the stock. 

She hadn’t seen Poe or Rose in two months, although Rose always sent word about the places they were going, the people they’d seen. A galaxy of planets ready to be discovered.

_You should come with us, Rose said._

Part of her wanted to. But she couldn’t shake the way everyone seemed to look at her— a little subdued, a little awed. Always a little apart.

The only person who didn’t make her feel that way lately was Finn. She hadn’t seen him in nearly a week. He was busy with the stormtrooper retraining program that kept growing and growing, their ranks swelling as word of the First Order defeat spread throughout the galaxy, and asking him to spend time with her made her feel like she was taking him away from that. He would have, of course, but...he was happy. She could feel how much purpose he had. 

She doubted she was good company, anyway. 

“You look busy,” a voice said from behind her, and she reacted before she thought, the sensor array dish crashing to the ground.

She _whirled_ , her lightsaber flying into her hand, but the figure behind her threw up his hands and laughed, low and easy. 

“Easy there. Sorry. I should know better than to sneak up on a Jedi unannounced. I’m just not used to being able to do that.”

She scowled at General Calrission, turning her back to bend back over the sensory array and inspect it for damage. “I was distracted.”

“Clearly,” he said. “I don’t think the Falcon has looked this good since I owned her.”

That made her raise a brow, and she actually looked back at the general. 

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “Remind me to tell you that one later.” His hands caressed over the open paneling on the wall. “I’m glad that you have her now. She deserves some love, after everything that she’s been through.”

“Are you staying with the Resistance?”

“It’s not the Resistance anymore, is it?” He hadn’t taken his eyes off the Falcon’s panels yet. “They can’t exactly call it the Republic. Or the New Republic. But there’s not much to Resist against anymore. TIme to put things back to how they were, instead.”

“Doesn’t seem like that worked out last time.” The words slipped out of her before she even thought about stopping them.

The general barked a laugh. “Now that sounds like Ben.”

It was the first time she’d heard his name aloud for the first time since...since he’d been taken at Ajan Kloss. 

“Sorry,” he said, mistaking the look on her face. “Kylo Ren. He was Ben, when I knew him.”

“I know.”

Those eyes of his seemed to see everything. She could feel him in the Force, feel the flicker of his presence, but his insight wasn’t powered by it. It was older, more experienced. Trusting nothing.

“You brought him back with you,” he said. “He said that you defeated Palpatine together.”

Rey’s heart seemed to leap and tangle in her throat. She nodded.

“I’m glad. Glad that he was able to do the right thing in the end.”

She managed to nod again, then force words up. “You saw him?”

He sighed. “Briefly. The council didn’t want me to spend too much time there. Apparently, they think I’m biased.”

 _She could make him tell her where he was._ The thought pulsed in her head and she forced it away. “General—”

“Lando,” he interjected, smiling roguishly. “I never re-enlisted, and I don’t mean to.”

The smile disarmed her. It was so much like Han’s, like...she took a breath. 

“Do you know where he is?”

Lando glanced away, before he gestured slightly above them. “Up there.”

Part of the Resistance’s fleet still circled overhead. She tried to ignore her heartbeat, keep her voice even. “Oh?”

“They have him aboard one of the captured Star Destroyers,” he said. “Guess they thought that was a little fitting.” His tone implied some kind of wry joke, but as he looked back at her, his eyes only seemed sad. “The former Supreme Leader, held on one of his own ships.”

A shiver crawled down the back of her neck, and she looked up to meet his steady gaze. “What are they going to do to him?” 

“Well, I doubt they’ll kill him,” Lando said. “Doesn’t set the right tone, new order and everything. But I doubt that Ben ever sees outside of that cell again.”

That felt like a punch to her gut.

_Ben._

The pulse of awareness she felt on the other side of the bond was faint. She hadn’t reached out enough to truly alert him, but he was there, like a glimmer on the horizon.

Forever. He would die in there, and she wouldn’t ever see him again.

Lando was watching her.

"Han never understood the point of the Jedi," he said, smiling slightly. "I think he wished his son had taken more after him. Would have been better if he had. Or at least if he'd inherited Han's wandering. That smuggler could barely stand on soil long enough to get dirt on his boots. Too bad."

Rey looked at him, not understanding.

"But Han learned, for Leia."

Whatever he was getting at, she wasn't understanding. Lando saw the confusion on her face.

"Still, anything is better than a jail cell. Han and Leia would've agreed on that. They both could barely sit still, in different ways. And Ben was the same way when he was little. I would rather have seen him exiled then in that cell forever."

“Exiled?” she said, repeating the word listlessly.

Lando nodded. “Plenty of planets on the outer rim. Away from this. I doubt he’d ever be able to come back to a Core World again, but after everything...I don’t think he’d want to. Call that a hunch.”

She wasn’t sure what to say to that. She felt frozen on the deck. He smiled at her, and winked.

“Take care of the Falcon,” he said, sauntering back. “You've done good work. And Han would have been happy to see you with her. I know that for a fact.”

* * *

_Ben._

_He falls, and it’s so fast that she’s caught off guard. One second, he’s on his knees with her, and the next he’s on the ground, and he’s gone. Just gone._

_For a moment, she’s horribly, terrifyingly alone._

_And then the next— Luke sits beside her. He looks...almost substantial. Sheer shock shudders through her, and she rounds on him. “Luke— he’s gone, I don’t—”_

_“Shh,” the Jedi Master says, his eyes still that impossible blue. There’s another form beside him, and then another, and another. She doesn’t recognize their faces, but she can_ feel _them. Their faces are solemn, or smiling, or soft as they watch her. A thousand eyes set in faces that are neither old or young. The Jedi._

_One of them steps forward— a young man with curling hair, a scar over his eye. Something about his stillness reminds her of Ben._

_“This is for the balance,” the Jedi says. “And for my family.”_

_And one by one, all of the Jedi lean in. A thousand generations of Jedi, breathing, concentrating, and then….Ben is slowly forming beside her, a slow reverse as the Jedi concentrate. She can feel the shift of energy, and closes her eyes tight to focus on it, push what she can into it._

_Ben. Ben. Ben._

_And then she opens her eyes, and Ben is beneath her, pale and hurt and shadowed, but solid. Alive._

_The Jedi fade. She can only feel Luke still beside her, and she gapes at him while he smiles softly at Ben, and at her._

_"Don't make the same mistakes we made," he says. "Remember the balance. Remember us all. But learn from our mistakes."_

_He smiles, before he fades too. And then they're alone._

* * *

It was strange, to say the least, especially when she flew the Falcon in to dock inside the seized Imperial I-class. 

The hallways looked pristine, even for an out-of-date cruiser, and felt tainted with memory even though Rey had never stepped foot on this ship before. There were differences, though. The clean military lines were gone, as were the sharp uniforms and rhythmic clanking of stormtrooper boots on metal floors. The Resistance— or the New Order, or whatever they’d eventually title themselves— were no longer a rag-tag group of fighters. They’d yet to find enough funding for a common uniform. People moved briskly and with purpose, but it was an evolving crowd of shapes, sizes, clothing and species.

It made it easy to land the Falcon and slip through. 

People noticed her. But usually it was a few beats after she’d passed them. She felt their eyes on her back, lingering for a few seconds before returning to their duties. Thankfully, there weren’t too many. She’d timed this right. This would be the night shift, if they were keeping to the timeclock down on the ground. This hanger would be even more empty in the next hour.

People _did_ notice, though. She nudged a few curious stares away with the Force, and a little more persistantly as she cleared the detention level. There wasn’t any suspicion, just attention. No doubt they’d be reporting her visit to the council soon.

He wasn’t the only one being kept here, she was sure. There were plenty of captured officers the council was still dithering over. She knew his cell, though. _His_ was the one with the armed guards posted out front.

She rounded on them, keeping her face a blank mask as she lowered the white hood. 

The guards drew themselves up a bit tighter.

“Take a patrol around the ship.” Her voice was even and soft, even as she felt her gut twist. 

One of them obeyed her command immediately. The other hesitated, just a bit.

“ _Now,”_ she said, pushing the word out and into his skull. He jolted upright and hurried after his companion. 

She waited until their footsteps faded before she dared to reach up and enter the code into the keypad. It opened with a hiss.

He was lying on the stone slab of the cell, staring at nothing. He barely seemed to register her presence.

“Ben.”

She breathed the word without thinking. Ben closed his eyes.

“Rey.”

The unexpected relief that flooded her was almost heady. If she hadn’t spent the better part of a year practicing her meditation, she might have run over to him and— and what? Part of her wanted to hit him. 

The other part of her hesitated, frozen on her feet as she took him in. He looked…

Terrible. He looked terrible. He was wearing plain clothes, a shirt and simple pants that looked like they might belong under a standard flight suit. But even though they were loose— or perhaps because they were— they couldn’t disguise how they hung on his frame. He’d lost weight. His eyes were shadowed, almost hollow.

He didn’t look at her. “You shouldn’t have come here.”

Rey felt anger, true anger now, claw up her throat.

“You said,” she hissed, “That you were _all right.”_

“It wasn’t a lie.” 

He looked...she remembered how he’d been, before. Kylo Ren or Ben Solo, he’d always seemed...alive. Not like this. 

He still wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I’m fine. I haven’t been mistreated, or hurt, or abused. But I’m where I deserve to be.”

The answer made her breath catch in her throat. Kylo Ren had done terrible things. They both knew it. Her eyes raked over him, but she knew that was the truth. There were no wounds on him. She opened the bond and felt...his walls. He was shielding her from this.

When she didn’t respond, he turned his head slowly, nodding when he read the expression on her face. 

“Tell me I don’t.”

Her throat worked. 

_What could anyone do?_

_Madame Jedi, are you telling me that you think he’s not guilty of any charge we could levy against him?_

“Do you think this is what _they_ wanted for you?

That worked. She felt Ben’s anger, felt it snap his attention, and he actually sat up. “I don’t care what they wanted.”

She stepped forward, saw him flinch, but pressed on. She sat very gingerly on the edge of the slab that he rested on, felt him draw away from her and pretended that it didn’t hurt.

“What about what I want? What I deserve?”

The question threw him. “Rey, you haven’t done anything wrong.”

That almost made her laugh. “Do you think Palpatine was telling the truth?”

Ben sat up. Someone must have been providing him with scissors, or the means to cut his hair, because it looked much like the same length as she remembered it. She wondered who in the Resistance had been assigned to those duties— how many guards they had pointing blasters at him, terrified, while they handed him a blade.

“Palpatine...lies,” he said. “He lies about everything. But I don’t think it matters.”

She nodded. “I think I want to do what you said.”

“What?”

“Let the past die.” 

Something hollow flickered over his face.

“But letting the past die doesn’t mean we can’t learn from it.” His hand was lying near hers. It was still exactly as she remembered. “We have to become who we were meant to be.”

Her friends wanted her to be...content. But she didn't want to fight wars anymore, or even build a new republic or found another dynasty. She could barely understand the power that flowed through her, the terrible light and the unending darkness. 

The council wanted her to be a Jedi, one of those sage knights who they could call on in times of need, who could keep the flame of the Force burning in a far away tower as a comfort to those on the ground. Always at a distance unless called for.

Just as alone as Luke had been on the island.

"You don't need me," he said quietly. "And I don't want to be used anymore." 

The words weren't self-pitying. Just delivered with that same hollow truth that always left her speechless. Ben’s fingers brushed hers.

The connection was immediate. His mind crashed into hers, and she knew suddenly why he’d wanted her to stay away from him, why he hadn’t wanted them to touch. 

His despair, his guilt, how selfish he felt when he let himself think about her beside him. How he would ruin her, just by being near her. How it would be better without him, how if he could just hold her off a little longer, she would forget him... _she would let go..._

Tears pricked her eyes, but she gritted her teeth and forced it back before whirling on him. He had a second to look startled before she pressed into him again, kissing him just as hard and fierce as she had on Exegol.

Ben hadn’t expected it. He jolted, pulling away.

“Rey—”

“Don’t,” she snapped. “Just don’t.”

Ben stared at her for a second. And then, his hands cupped her face. Her perception was constricted. She could feel the heat of them, the unexpected roughness of his fingertips and yet how gently he let his fingers slide into her hair, undoing the bindings.

For some reason, the touch made her skin set alight. A shiver rippled through her, and making it nearly unbearable to stand still.

But she did. She had kissed him before— twice now. This was only fair.

Ben’s hands returned to the sides of her face, angling her chin up just a little, and…

_Oh._

This kiss wasn’t like the one on Exegol. That had been hard and fierce and brief. This one...this one was slow, like liquid fire. Her lips parted on instinct, his mouth impossibly hot and wet and yet she wanted to chase it, unable to cede this ground entirely. 

Ben...shuddered, pulling back only to suck in a sharp breath, and Rey took the opportunity to surge forward. She kissed him, pressing him back cool metal wall, humming her approval at his heat, his taste, the way his fingers were tangling into her hair. 

When she broke back, he _moaned,_ low between them. It made her blood sing and she couldn’t stop her fingers from curling tighter in his shirt.

But she made herself draw back, spine as stiff as any empress', face as fierce as any junker in the wastes, guarding precious salvage.

“I want you to come with me.”

He looked stricken. She pressed on, before he could hesitate more.

“You can’t make it better here,” she said. “You can’t atone for anything rotting in a jail cell. They might have saved you, but they don't decide our fates. The Resistance wants to make a new start, and they can do it by saving what’s good in the galaxy. People are already trying.”

She leaned in closer, holding his gaze. “We can go somewhere they can’t use you, or me, anymore. The Jedi are gone, so are the Sith. There isn't the First Order, or Skywalkers, or emperors. We can be _no one_.”

She saw his mouth tremble, his lips still red from their kiss. “Rey…”

“ _Please_.”

The word seemed to stretch between them. This time, Ben closed his eyes. And nodded.

* * *

It was only the months of meditation and practice that let her keep her breathing even as they walked out together.

His hand was clasped in hers, so tight— she didn’t dare let go in case he changed his mind and started back for his cell. Beneath her palm she could feel the pulse in his hand thrumming.

At least he no longer looked like a prisoner. He wore an ill-fitting deckhand jumpsuit now, and she whispered another silent apology to the deckhand she’d called and subdued to get it. 

There was no point in subtlety now. It would take the Resistance no time at all to consider who to blame the moment they realized Kylo Ren was no longer in his cell. They’d be in hyperspace by then. Heading out far beyond the Outer Rim. The Resistance had enough to worry about, rather than chase them. She hoped.

She glanced up at Ben, pale as he walked alongside her. She’d timed this right. The deck was more sparse than it had been when she’d landed. The Falcon was there, unguarded. They were close, so close—

Ben flinched like someone had touched him with an electric prod. Rey’s gaze jerked toward him, before movement on the ramp of the Falcon caught her attention, and she saw…

Chewie.

The Wookie stood there, staring at them both.

For a moment, she was frozen, every thought in her head crashing to her feet. Ben had stopped breathing.

It was over. This was over. She couldn’t do anything, felt her panic only matched by her exhaustion. A war’s _worth_ of exhaustion, crashing down on her. 

“ _Chewie_ ,” she started—

The Wookie’s eyes finally moved off Ben’s face to look at her.

And then, so subtly...she saw him shift to the side.

Ben let out a slow breath, but she was already moving, tugging him with her as she hurried up the ramp. “Thank you, Chewie—”

Chewie just watched them. As Ben passed, he growled, softly and menacingly, but did nothing to slow them as they hurried past. 

“Thank you,” Rey breathed. 

His eyes flicked to her, and he growled in Shyriiwook, lighter this time. 

“And with you,” she said. She let her free hand rest on his massive one, just for a second.

The Wookie’s eyes softened one final time before he turned and headed down the ramp.

* * *

_She dreams. Rey dreams of fire, and blood, and pain—_  
  
A large arm curled around her, pulling her more thoroughly to the warm press of his body. Rey's eyes opened for a moment, blurry in sleep as she shook herself out of the dream and back to reality for a hazy moment. But it was enough to register the presence behind her, and more subtle touch of his words inside her head.

_You're not alone._

Not alone. 

She twisted, fighting the tangle of arms and sheets to finally settle against Ben. This time she slept, dreamless.

* * *


End file.
